


Honor and Hutts

by Lionfire42



Series: Jedi on Kamino [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Ahsoka Tano is a Sibling to the Clones, Ahsoka Tano-centric, Ahsoka is Emotionally Constipated, And The Republic has let them run amok for far too long, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, Battle of Christophsis, Child Soldiers, Emotional Repression, Hutts (Star Wars), Moral Dilemmas, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Slaves, Soldier!Ahsoka, The Hutts are actually really horrible people, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 20:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionfire42/pseuds/Lionfire42
Summary: They cut their teeth on Christophsis.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Series: Jedi on Kamino [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190609
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	Honor and Hutts

They cut their teeth on Christophsis.

A thousand simulations cannot prepare her for this. She and her brothers and sisters had of course gotten hurt before. There were always injuries, especially as they'd gotten older and their lessons harsher and more advanced. Sprains, tears, broken bones and the occasional stab wound or blaster shot. Minor wounds to be laughed at or bragged about later.

This, though…

The air stinks of ozone and oil and blood. It reverberates with the sounds of whirring gears and crumbling stone, screaming metal and shifting plastiod; the high pitched whines and cries of dying droids and brothers.

She vaults over rubble, her pistols hot in her hands. Her skin stings from shrapnel and splashes of hot oil. Her muscles burn in a way they never have before, her every sense tuned to her surroundings, the movement of her joints, her pounding heart, the focused minds of her brothers.

Rex is on her left, laser-focused. His mind is grim and steady and resolute in turns and she draws strength from that, even as she bellows orders and relays her General's intentions to her men.

That's a new thing. The tentative mental binding between her General and herself. She's used to such bonds of course—even now she can feel the faintest ties Cal and Caleb lightyears away, and her bond to Rex thrums constantly and steadily.

But this...this is different.

High General-Master Kenobi told her (and Anakin, though that conversation was not one she was supposed to hear) that is closer to that of a rudimentary training bond—the likes that were supposed to be reserved for Jedi Masters and their Padawans, not General-Masters and their subordinates.

Anakin doesn't seem inclined to heed the thinly-veiled order to tear the strengthening bind asunder, even from a High General-Master. Then again, given that his plans include such highlights as standing under a box to bypass an energy shield and an army of droids, perhaps she should begin to plan for his...unusual thinking and loose interpretation of the rules of engagement.

Of course, none could plan for Teth.

The monastery is a kill zone, and she knows even before they land that this battle will be one hard-fought and bloody. 

All for a Huttlet.

The Kaminoans had provided general education, but the galaxy was a huge place with constant, shifting geopolitical conditions and battlefields. She hadn't had as much flash-training as her brothers (most of it had been done the old-fashioned way, but there were only so many hours in the day, and the defense of Republic meant there wasn't _time_ to _struggle_ with a concept like xenobiology), but she had enough, and she pulls on the imprinted knowledge crammed into her head about Hutts.

Slug-like. Disproportionally powerful and influential, despite their rather inefficient physical stature. Long-lived. 

Apparently the targets of ire by one Anakin Skywalker.

She takes note of his slowly growing anger as troops die around them, and the spike of sheer _hate_ when they finally lay eyes on the Huttlet.

In another life, were she more naive, she could almost consider the child cute. As it is, he's slimy, smelly and the cause for her men's deaths. His life, one of pampered luxury, is considered worth the death of a thousand, and probably a thousand more on top of that.

Still, she will do her duty. And that duty includes having to inform her seething General that they'd probably have to either do something for the kid's fever or find a way to put him back into Separatist hands, because they could, under no circumstances, be caught holding a dead baby.

To her surprise—and relief—he barks out a bitter laugh at that, stuffing the wiggling child into a backpack.

(In hindsight, it's a miracle the spy droid only catches _his_ declaration of hatred and not _her_ dark humor.)

He's not laughing as he realizes they'll have to leave their men behind to hold the monastery if they have any chance at making sure the Huttlet gets to its destination.

"I can stay with the men, sir." She has a responsibility, and while she is supposed to stay beside and assist him, she is loath to leave her troops alone without specialized support. 

But in the end she has a duty, and in the end she must relay the message to Rex to hold position. Without her.

The Huttlet is a nightmare to deal with, shrieking and crying when she deigns to put him down for just a moment, and while she supposes she should be more charitable to the little creature—he had been kidnapped, after all—Anakin's barely restrained vocal and mental disgust makes it difficult to reign in her own.

"You really are a pampered little slug, aren't you?" she muses aloud, watching yet more of her rations disappear down the child's greedy gullet.

Anakin snorts. "You should see what he'll grow into. For Hutts, the fatter, the better, and being the son of Jabba means he'll never have to worry about a thing in his life. All the security and water and food and slaves he'll ever want."

Slaves.

She knows, clinically, objectively, that the Hutts are active, avid proponents of the slave trade. But hearing it drives it home.

She's holding a future slaver in her arms.

She's holding someone who will cause untold pain and heartbreak for others.

She's holding someone who will go to ruin lives.

She's holding…

She's holding…

She's holding a child.

Abruptly she's ashamed.

The tenets of the Republic maintain that everyone is innocent until proven otherwise, and as one of its defenders, she is beholden to its ideals.

This child—Rotta—has done nothing, and while the Force is said to give visions of the future, she's certainly never received one, so who is she to cast judgement?

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Anakin looking at her with a bemused expression, and she quickly schools her features, chastising herself. Jedi are empaths and such a slip in demeanor and focus while on a mission is unacceptable.

(She hardly notices Anakin's anger abating. Her thoughts have smoothed the ragged edges of his own.)

The Separatists ambush them above Tatooine, and they're forced to make a crash landing on the burning dunes.

There is a beacon of darkness, something she's never felt before, rushing towards them and she instinctively knows it is Dooku. Anakin orders her away and she complies instantly: the main objective is Rotta, and she has neither the skills nor endurance to engage Dooku in what will doubtless be a clash of sabers.

It isn't the first time she's moved across sand, but the gritty, rocky sand scooped and dried from the Kamino ocean floor is almost completely foreign to the grainy, powdery sand of Tatooine's deserts. There are highly concealed pitfalls, venomous creatures, and the burning twin suns on top of it all.

All and all, still better than Korasa.

The droids she could do without.

Magna Guards are a pain to deal with in optimal terrain, let alone on shifting sands with a principle. Her training saber doesn't do much in the way of damage, but is efficient in blocking the droid's electric staff. It becomes a victim, which is unfortunate, but her vibroknife, a lucky shot or two and a few utilizations of the Force does the rest.

She slams her shoulder back into place, makes sure Rotta is none the worse for wear for being unceremoniously shove-tossed out of the way, and continues her trek, arriving at the palace of Jabba in time to prevent her General from possibly starting yet another war.

She isn't surprised when Jabba threatens to kill them anyway, but is when a rather beautiful human female appears via hologram to condemn Jabba's brother and the Separatists for the kidnapping. How convenient. Before today, she might have said she couldn't ever see one of her brothers betraying the other, but she remembers Slick and a part of her already mourns what this war has begun to do to them.

The General is staring out towards the wastes when she relays the sorted out rendezvous information to him. The 212th and 501st were still cleaning up from Teth, but a ship would be able to retrieve them by early morning. Jabba had offered to let them spend the night for their services, but she wasn't inclined to sleep in the crime den and she already knows that Anakin is likely to cause an intergalactic incident if he spends much longer in the vicinity of the Hutt. Instead she'd requested rations, water and a ride to their downed ship.

"Mission accomplished, huh Snips?" His voice is bittersweet, tinged with victory and regret.

She's not... _good_ , with this comforting thing, especially towards a superior officer. She tends to be more tactile, letting her empathy be shown through hugs and nudges and shoulder grips because it is all she knows and all they were allowed to get away with on Kamino, and she doesn't think she has the courage to break protocol and hug her General-Master.

But she knows she can at least give a better pep talk than _Caleb_ , so…

"Permission to speak freely, si-Anakin?"

He nods and she tells him what she's been thinking. "It's a deal with a devil, and I can't say I'm pleased at how we've bent to the likes of the Hutts...but I reconcile myself with the fact that this bend means we will not break against the Separatists. And with boys like ours, this war can't last long. And perhaps, when it's all said and done, with all the man power the Republic will have at its disposal, we can hammer out this bend, not just in our values, but in the galaxy itself. Of course, we'll need a good leader to show us how to put this place to rights."

And finally, _finally_ , he gives a genuine grin, one free from stress and anger and pain. His teeth glint and his auburn hair glows, and just for a moment, she can see why his face is plastered across GAR advertising. He _looks_ like a hero of yore.

Even if he wasn't her General-Master, she could see herself following him.

"One day, Ahsoka," he vows, powerful and certain. "One day, we'll tear down this whole empire. We'll end the corruption. We'll free these slaves. You and me, Snips. Bet on it."

She salutes him, the burn of sun paltry to the heat of pride in her chest. "Yes, sir!"


End file.
